As We Know It
by galacticbestbuds
Summary: Bad news always goes down better with burgers and a shake. It's a patented Maya Fey motto. Except when that bad news is walking into your sister's—usually neat and tidy, but now wrecked and frenzied—law office and spotting a seventeen year old boy sobbing over said sister's bloodied and dying body. –––AU
1. Chapter 1

**AS WE KNOW IT**

**CHAPTER 1**

* * *

_August 3, 9:47 AM_

_District Court_

_Defendant Lobby No. 2_

"How are the pre-first trial jitters holding up?"

"I honestly don't know what you're talking about, Sis. I feel awesome!" Maya exclaims cheerfully, even going to the effort of clasping her hands together and jumping up from her seat on one of the benches in the Defendant's Lobby. It only takes two seconds for her to regret it as she cups her face in her hands and tries to steady herself on her feet. "Alright—who set the room to spin-mode?"

Mia chuckles at her young sister's antics before laying a hand on her shoulder, a concerned look crossing her features. "Are you sure you still want to go through with this? I mean… a murder case for your first trial…"

"Of course I do!" Maya insists, though her hands are still cradling her head, and her voice is strained in nerves. "I'm perfectly capable of handling this, and we're already here, so it's too late to back out. I'm not nervous, either. Just a little… _dizzy_." She finishes unconvincingly.

"It's just like you to rush into something without thinking about the consequences." Mia chides, but there is a teasing tone to her voice, and Maya sticks her tongue out at her.

Maya straightens herself, craning her neck to look around the room. "Where is he?"

"It's over! My life, everything, _it's all over!_" A cry breaks through her muttering, and the two siblings jump at the sudden blubbering. Maya's head snaps over to her left, spotting her client freaking out by the door. She breathes a sigh of relief at having found him, but the sight makes butterflies in her stomach she thought settled down riot again.

Mia nods over to him, asking, "Isn't that your client screaming over there?"

Maya looks at the sobbing mess of a man sympathetically. "Yeah… that's him."

"Death! Despair! _Ohhhh!_" The man yelps, now pacing around the lobby and chewing on his nails. "I'm gonna do it, I'm gonna die!"

"It sounds like he wants to die…" Mia notes.

"Yeah… he was like that in the detention center too. I don't get it, either. He's innocent—" The man is attempting to bash his head against the wall, and Maya bites the inside of her cheek, "—right?"

"If it makes you feel any better, there are clients like this all the time. Except, maybe just… a _little_ calmer." Mia says in an attempt to lift Maya's spirits back up. "Besides, it's a defense attorney's job to believe in their client, even if they don't themselves."

"Yeah, you're right, Sis."

"Ms. Fey!" The man calls, apparently just having spotted her, and he rushes over to the two ladies, almost tripping on his feet.

Maya's eyes widen. "Mr. Larry Butz!" She addresses, hands going to grip the files and notes that she picked up from the bench. Her knuckles whiten as her eyes dart between the wall behind Larry and at the man himself.

Mia raises her eyebrow at the name, an amused twinkle in her eyes, but doesn't call attention to it.

"I'm _so guilty_! Tell them I'm guilty!" Larry cries, beginning reaching out to grab Maya's shoulders, but deciding against it. Instead, he rolls his hands into fists and scrunches his eyes shut. "Gimme the death sentence! I ain't afraid to die!"

"What!?" Maya panics, not expecting the confession—twenty minutes before the trial, of all times. Maybe choosing a murder case right off the bat was a bad idea, after all. Still, she presses, "What's wrong, Mr. Butz?"

"Oh, it's all over… I… I'm finished. _Finished!_" He emphasizes, throwing his hands up. Maya tries to inch away discreetly. Larry doesn't notices, and instead continues his rambling, "I can't live in a world without her! _I can't!_ Who… who took her away from me, Ms. Fey? Who did this?! Aww, come on, ya gotta tell me! Who took my baby away!?"

Maya chews on her bottom lip, looking down at the papers she holds in her arms. If media was to be taken seriously, that would mean… Larry was the one who killed his girlfriend. But that couldn't be it. A defense attorney always believes. At least, she hopes so.

.

.

.

Her name is Maya Fey, and her story is a simple one: she comes from a long line of spirit mediums who head a school for the Kurain Channeling Technique. Her mother is the Master of the village, meaning she's the one to call the shot about all the nitty gritty political issues spouting in Kurain, her hometown in the mountains. Mia, Maya's sister, is to be next in line for the position since she's the eldest daughter—and has way more control and technique up her sleeve than Maya could ever wish to have.

Except, that story's not entirely true, either. The thing is, their mom went M.I.A eleven years ago, and no one knows where she is. Instead of a Master running the show, it's a council of the most top-notch (and old—very, very old) mystics in Kurain: the Elders, who just want things ran their way instead of considering the benefits of their own people. And… Mia and Maya sort of… ran away to the city afterwards.

Mia, age eighteen, left two years after their mother's disappearance. She wanted to get an education outside of Kurain, get a big wig job, and solve the mystery of where their mother went. It was just an added bonus she wouldn't have to fight over the title of Master with her younger sister—the problem that plagued their village time and time again—once she left. Mia went to university, studied law, and became a defense attorney.

Maya, age seventeen, left four years after their mother's disappearance. She was in the middle of training at that time, but she had enough of the Elders and having to live up to expectations, so she followed in Mia's footsteps to find their mom. At least, it was partly that. She wanted to know where her mom was, sure, but she always needed a way out—and that way out was the city that she was prohibited from visiting too often. Come on, a girl's gotta have more than one fast-food outing every couple of months.

And here they were—working under Fey & Co. Law Offices, gradually working their way up to the top of attorneys, and looking into the mom-situation behind the scenes.

Maya had gotten her attorney's badge recently, having passed the bar exam at twenty-four, and was now going through her very first trial. She still visits Kurain, though; even if it felt like she wasn't welcome at times—their reputation being the two Fey girls who had left in the village's time of need.

And… she's technically just a spirit medium-in-training, considering she never finished when she let herself be whisked away into the city, but so what if she never bothered to complete her training, right? It's not like she needs the powers of the undead to get through everyday life, or anything.

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.

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_August 3, 2:32 PM_

_District Court_

_Defendant Lobby No. 2_

After a relatively quick trial, Maya believes that things went rather well considering the little bumps in the road—Cindy Stone, Cinder Block, same difference, right?, and a poorly timed duck landing a greasy toupée at her face. Still, it went well, and she won her very first trial.

"Congrats, Maya! I knew you had it in you." Mia trails behind her until they stop at the same bench they were at earlier, ruffling Maya's hair a bit.

"Yeah, I guess the lawyer genes do pass down from family." Maya says, before she squints and looks at her sister's chest. "If only something else was passed down."

"_Maya_!" Mia hisses, making attempts to pull up her shirt and cover herself. Maya only laughs. Sighing, Mia continues, "Still, it's been a while since I've seen a trial end on such a satisfying note!"

Maya smiles at the compliment. She hasn't seen her sister this happy in months from the stress of helping Maya study for the bar and juggling her own trials—if her sister is this glad, imagine how her client must feel after being found innocent!

"My life is over…" There's a loud sob, and then a sniffle, and then another sob, and Maya spins on her heel to be face-to-face with Larry.

She knits her eyebrows together at the reaction. "What's wrong, Mr. Butz? You didn't do it—_you're innocent!_"

"I might be innocent, but…" Maya cocks her head, waiting for the explanation, "but my Cindy-windy's gone! Gone forever! I'm here, innocent, but at least I'm _alive_, you know?!"

"Congratulations, Harry!" Mia joins the conversation, apparently satisfied with the way she was able to button up her shirt. She offers her hand, to which Larry limply shakes back.

"_H-Harry_…?" Larry echoes, eyes slowly running up and down Mia's body. Maya resists the urge to roll her eyes.

Mia grins. "Yes, you! I can practically see the headlines now: '_Harry Butz, Innocent_!'"

The transformation from a weeping mess to shy, flirty smiling happens fast, and Maya almost has to do a double-take, because it's as if Larry had forgotten about everything that happened in the last couple of minutes. "Heh… um… thanks! I really owe you one." Larry says sincerely before laying on the charm. Very heavily. "I won't forget this, ever! Let's celebrate! Dinner? Movie? My treat!"

"Oh, no," Mia quickly backs off, waving her hands as she shakes her head, "I couldn't."

"Not like I didn't get you off the hook, or anything." Maya mumbles to herself, but she considers the situation. Did she really want Larry to ask her to dinner or the movies? She makes a face. _No thanks._

"Oh, hey! H-here, take this! It's a present!" Larry says, reaching into the bag he brought with him and offering the oddly shaped statue in his hand to Mia.

"A present? For me?" Mia asks disbelievingly, eyeing the gift. She narrows her eyes, "Wait… wasn't this the evidence that…"

"Actually," Larry butts in, puffing out his chest proudly, "I made this clock for her and one for me."

"Whoa! You actually made this?" Maya asks, leaning in to observe the disguised clock. She has to say, she's pretty impressed with the turn of events. Her client didn't look like one who made thoughtful gestures.

Mia takes a moment to consider his offer, before reaching out and taking the clock. It looks heavy, and Mia obviously didn't expect it to weigh so much, so she struggles with getting it into her hands for a while. "Well, thank you. I'll keep it as a memento."

"Larry!"

"Yo, Nick! You made it!" Her client beams through his tears at someone passing through the open doors to the Defendant's Lobby, to whom Mia looks at with a fond smile. _Huh._ Weird.

The first thing Maya notices is the hair. It's spiky and weird, and she absently wonders how much product the guy uses in the morning to shape it like that. 'Nick' is wearing an oversized navy blue hoodie, black jeans, and these silly sneakers that have the letters 'P' and 'W' imprinted on either shoe. He's also holding onto a bunch of important files and papers, which gives Maya the impression he was working for someone in the business.

"Can you believe it? I was so into that chick…" Larry is rambling again, immediately bursting into conversation with his friend.

'Nick' tries to awkwardly pat Larry's back with his elbow. "Whoa, why are you still crying? I thought you were off the hook."

"My girlfriend was playing me for a fool! Don't that make you wanna just cry?"

"Are you so sure?" Mia asks, an unreadable expression on her face. Larry stops his blubbering to look up at her, baffled. She shrugs, "I think she thought quite a lot of you, in her own way."

"Nah, you don't gotta sympathize with me, 'sokay." Larry dismisses her, doing a poor job of wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his coat.

"Oh, I'm not just sympathizing, really. Isn't that right, Maya?" Mia turns to Maya, who until then, was out of the conversation. Maya clears her throat, trying to ease her way into the loop, but confused all the same. "Don't you have something to show Harry? Something that proves how she felt about him?"

_What the heck was Mia talking about?_

"Um, yeah. Right." Maya lies before sifting through the court record in a desperate attempt to find something to stop Larry's incessant crying. She lands on a page that has a photo paper clipped onto it, and she immediately realizes what Mia meant.

Maya carefully pulls the photograph out of its hold, and flashes it in front of Larry's face. "_Take that!_ Proof positive you weren't just some chump to her."

Larry takes the picture in his hands, examining it carefully. Finally, he breathes out, "Huh…? What's this have to do with anything?"

Maya goes into a tangent about how Cindy had kept the clock that he made with her all this time, even if she was gallivanting with other men, despite its heaviness and the lack of practicality. Larry just stares at her throughout the explanation, awed.

He speaks up after a moment of silence. "Hey… Maya? I could call you that, right?" Maya nods. Even though she lost that air of professionalism, it was only a matter of time before people started referring to her first name. It's tough having two 'Ms. Fey's' in the business. Larry smiles, genuinely, at her. "I'm glad you offered to be my lawyer. Really, I am. Thanks."

'Nick' clears his throat, and Maya jumps a little at the noise. She had forgotten that he was still there. "Oh, uh, yes?" She asks, still a bit shocked.

'Nick' turns to Maya, offering a polite smile instead of a handshake, considering the pile of papers he's cradling in his arms. He gestures—with the stack—over to Larry, "Thanks for defending my friend. He always finds some way to himself into trouble, but he doesn't have it in him to be a murderer. There's even this saying he has—"

"Hey!" Larry protests, but it's weak and he's still looking on at him through starry eyes, tears welling up once more. He manages to choke out, gratefully, "It's almost like you're the adult here, Nick."

"One more year." He grins, trying to run a hand through his spiky hair, but fumbling with the papers in one arm is hard enough. 'Nick' looks at the clock stationed on a wall, cursing under his breath. "Darn. It's almost 2:50. It was nice catching up with you again, Larry, Chief," He nods over at Mia, before turning to Maya, "and…?" He trails off, hoping to catch her name.

"Maya. Maya Fey. I'm Mia's younger sister."

(Maya whispers, low enough so that only Mia could hear, "'Chief'?" She echoes, amused.

"What can I say? I'm an inspiration." Mia grins.)

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Maya, but I have to go." 'Nick' says apologetically, scrambling back to the open doors in a rush while trying to keep his papers in check. "Duty calls."

Mia snorts at this, and Maya doesn't quite understand why.

"So… who was that?" Maya tries to steer the conversation again, nudging Mia in her side.

Instead of Mia answering her, however, it's Larry. "That's Nick. I've known him since I was twelve." And then, to clarify, "I used to volunteer as teacher's aide at his elementary school with my other friend. Somethin' about being good on resumés. I still don't understand what the community has ever done for _me_."

"He's an intern at Grossberg Law Offices—you know, where I used to work." Mia adds helpfully.

"That's cool." Maya says. "So he wants to be a defense attorney, then?"

"Seems like it." is all Mia says in response.

Larry excuses himself—something about being late for a job interview at 3:30—and after a multitude of more 'thanks,' he finally makes way towards the door.

Maya watches the retreating figure of Larry, her very first successful client, as he leaves the room. She breathes out a sigh, and straightens out her blazer. Her eye catches the shiny attorney's badge pinned to her lapel, and it's in that moment that Maya realizes the gravity of the situation—she's a lawyer! Five years of hard work and studying and catching up on all the things school in Kurain hasn't taught her—paid off. Because she's a lawyer now. She's succeeded in something, and it feels so—surreal… _amazing_.

It's Mia who pries her out of her reverie.

"Well, I'm off to get a Swiss roll to celebrate your win." Mia says, jutting a thumb over to the door, "Wanna come with, Maya?"

"Those six dollar rip-offs in the hallway?" Maya makes a face as Mia draws closer to the door that leads out into the hallway, before brightening up. "You know me too well, Sis."

.

.

.

_Brrring…_

_Brrrrrring…_

_Beep._

"Yeah, Sis? It's like… nine in the morning. This better be good."

"Morning, sleepy head. How have you been?"

"_TIRED._ And even more tired. And would you look at whose fault that is? Oh, I dunno, my sister calling me at nine a.m. on a Monday morning. This is exactly why I have my own apartment."

"Cute. Actually, I'm calling because I have a favor to ask."

"What is it this time? Need me to hold some more evidence for you?"

"Sharp as always! There's a lot of buzz about the upcoming trial… I just don't feel safe keeping the evidence here."

"You know, this arrangement isn't going to work out as well once I'm known for my awesome lawyer skills. But yeah, I gotcha. So, what is it this time?"

"It's a clock—"The Thinker" I got from Harry last month. It's not very practical, but it's still fun to turn its head sometimes. I thought you might like it. You always liked toys."

"Sis—I'm twenty-four! I don't have time to play with toys."

"And those Steel Samurai action figures I saw at your apartment last week?"

"_Mia_!"

"Joking, joking. Ah, I should probably tell you, the clock isn't talking right now."

"Huh? It's not working? That's lame! And I thought Larry was good at all that sculpting mechanical stuff."

"Who's Larry—oh. You're talking about Harry. It worked fine, I just had to take the clockwork out. Sorry. I put some papers inside it instead."

"Papers? Is that the evidence, then?"

"Not just sharp, but nosy as always! Hmm well… there's a possibility that it might turn out that way, yes."

"_Hey,_ I take offense!"

"Can you come by the office tonight, say 9:00, to pick it up? I'll be in a pretrial meeting until then."

"Okay, Sis, but I expect dinner! Something good! Like… burgers! I could really go for a good burger."

"Okay, okay. We'll hit the usual joint."

"Alright! It's a deal!"

"Okay, Sis, see you soon!"

"Yep. I'll be waiting, Maya."

_Beep._

_[Conversation recorded._

_September 5, 9:27 AM]_

.

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_September 5, 9:08 PM_

_Fey & Co. Law Offices_

Bad news always goes down better with burgers and a shake. It's a patented Maya Fey motto. Well, honestly, everything goes down better with burgers and shake—but bad news especially.

Except when that bad news is walking into your sister's—usually neat and tidy, but now wrecked and frenzied—law office and spotting a seventeen year old boy sobbing over said sister's bloodied and dying body. Yeah, her appetite was gone now. Left the building and took a plane straight to Antarctica.

Maya freezes in her spot, the grip on her cell phone set to call Mia's now loose, and she barely registers the noise when it falls to the floor.

"Chief…" The boy is mumbling, and the light illuminating through the window from the Gatewater Hotel across the street reflects the tear streaks on his cheeks. "Please, wake up…"

"Is that… really…?" Maya whispers, before clambering over to the window her Mia's body was passed out under. She yells harshly, still unbelieving, "Sis! _MIA_!"

The boy stares up at her in fright, but she's too busy shaking her unmoving sister's body and her vision is soon blurred over with hot tears. She closes her eyes for a moment, but the image is burned into her eyelids. Maya inhales, hiccupping through her sobs.

"This _isn't_ funny, you know! Sis—you _can't_ do this to me—I—" She looks over at the boy, as though she only just remembered someone was there with her. Maya mumbles, apprehensively, "Who… who are you?"

He says nothing. Maya doesn't know whether it was a choice, or because he couldn't bring himself to speak, eyes brimming with tears and—_pain_.

And suddenly, her sister's words flash through her mind, conversation forgotten in the month's hectic schedule: _"Phoenix Wright, you remember him, right? We met him in the lobby after your first trial. He's assisting Marv at the moment, but there was always something about him—sort of like, genius waiting to break through. I'm thinking of taking him in when he passes the bar in a couple of years. What do you think, Maya?"_

Maya's ears are ringing, and ringing, and ringing, and she crumbles to her knees, her head in a daze.

Police. She has to call the police. Maya reaches blindly for her cell phone in the dark, fingers clasping the pink object and clearing the number already entered. She fumbles, her fingers shaking as she presses the numbers: _9-1—_

The boy—Phoenix—faints before she hits the final number, and the sudden collapse makes her drop her phone again. Somewhere, Maya could hear the faint screech of sirens and high-pitched screaming of a woman. If her head was in the right place, she would have noticed that the police were already coming onto scene even though she never called. But at that moment, nothing mattered.

Maya half-crawls over to her body, holding onto Mia's hand_—limp, cold, lifeless—_and the warmth that once engulfed her sister's body fades. Maya's hold falters.

Mia is gone.

Maya has nothing left.

* * *

**Note**: So, how was it? I hope it wasn't too awful. It's a plot-bunny-turned-monster and I just HAD to get this out of my system. First thing's first: _no, this will not be a rewrite of all AA cases._ I'll be choosing specific scenes and cases to build this alternate universe off of, but I won't be rewriting full cases. I've changed a lot timeline wise, but most events follow canon—with the exception being the reversals. These changes will be explained in due time (a.k.a. once I figure out all the logic kinks). Role-reversal is one of my favorite tropes, and I seriously can't believe that the lawyer/assistant switch hasn't been done—from what I've seen anyways. Thank you for reading, as always, and feel free to drop a review.


	2. Chapter 2

**AS WE KNOW IT**

**CHAPTER 2**

* * *

_Brrring…_

_Brrrrring…_

_Brrrrrrrring…_

_Beep._

"Hello? You've reached Phoenix Wright."

"Phoenix, it's me, Mia. How have you been?"

"O-Oh! Mia—I mean, _Chief_—you're calling. Uh, I've been doing alright. Mr. Grossberg's been sending me out a lot more often, lately. He's got a new oil canvas in his office."

"That sounds… _pleasant_. I hope Marv doesn't run you into the ground. So, how're you doing in school?"

"Good, actually. At first, I thought this internship was going to be a pretty big interference with—" A pause. "—_and_ I'm guessing this call isn't just to ask me how I am."

"That obvious, huh? Actually, it isn't. But it's nice to know that you're doing well."

"So, what's up, Chief?"

"Listen, are you busy tonight?"

A longer pause.

"Phoenix? Hello?"

A crackle. "Yeah—yeah. I'm here. So you, uh, you were saying?"

"I hope you weren't thinking I was going to ask you out on a date."

"W-What? _No, no, no_! Connection just… dropped. I don't see you in that way, either, heh…!"

"Alright, now that _that_ misunderstanding is cleared up—what do you say to dinner with me and my sister?"

"Your sister…? Oh. The defense attorney who got Larry off the hook. Maya, was it?"

"Bingo. I'd really like to introduce the two of you, considering you might be the newest addition to the team."

"You were being serious about that? The whole 'taking me in' thing?"

"Of course I am, Phoenix. And what about you? Having second doubts so soon?"

"No. Not at all. I'd love to work for you."

"So, I guess that settles it. 9:00 p.m. at my office. Offer's on the table."

"…Alright. I'll be there."

"Great! See you there, Phoenix."

"Bye, Chief."

_Beep._

_[Conversation recorded._

_September 5, 9:35 AM]_

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_September 6, 9:07 AM_

_Detention Center_

_Visitor's Room_

Proper first meetings could only go so… for lack of a better word: _terribly_. This 'terrible,' however, was off the Richter scale. Then again, most people meet others through friends, or school, or alike interests and not… through a glass divider in a cold, clammy detention center.

But—hey, Maya's kind of met Phoenix before, so it couldn't be that awful, right? They exchanged a couple of sentences in the lobby. So the first one-on-one was nothing to be scared of, she's sure.

He was immediately arrested last night—something about too much evidence riding against him, and an eyewitness to boot. Maya managed to finish the questioning portion of her own interrogation, as she was someone on the scene, but when she left for her apartment, she just sat around in the living room. Waiting for something—waiting to wake up from this nightmare.

Maya subconsciously rubs at the dark circles forming beneath her eyes from the lack of sleep she got last night. No sane person would be able to sleep after something like that, and she isn't going to start being that person, no matter how much it affected her ability to perform. She is just going to have to… _wing it._

"Oh!" Phoenix looks shocked to see that it's Maya who is visiting when he shuffles over to take the seat in across from her. The door shuts close, a guard standing by on duty. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, trying to avoid meeting her eyes. "It's you… Mia's sister. Good morning…"

"Good morning." Maya greets gently, and she empathizes with the lone nod given to her in return. If she was in his situation, she wouldn't be one to talk, either.

"What are you…?" Phoenix trails off, looking uncertain, but he brings himself to ask, "…are you going to be my attorney?"

Maya's been bracing herself for this question, ever since she stumbled into the detention center at nine a.m, right when visiting hours started. Should she? It was kind of a given, right? She's his friend's little sister, and it was her duty to protect him. But she's only just won her first trial. She could fumble up with her second, and then send Phoenix straight to death row. Mia would never forgive her. A more experienced lawyer should take this case.

But, then again, Maya Fey's never one for picking the obvious choice. "Yeah, I will."

"A-are you sure?" Phoenix manages to look even more tired and upset than he did when he walked into the room, and for the life of her, Maya cannot understand why. Was it something she said?

"You don't want me to?" She veers, trying not to look so pathetic.

Phoenix is silent for a moment, before he rallies, "Everyone thinks I did it." His exclamation is loud and frantic, and he's staring right at her, fingers gripping the arms of his plastic chair. "Even you—when you saw me there, over her body, you thought I murdered Chief!"

Did she really look at him like that last night? She frowns, something she's been doing a lot lately, but doesn't bring herself to dig too deep into the memory. Instead, she presses, "But you _didn't_, right?"

"…Right." He sighs, running a distressed hand through his hair, which looks as spiky as ever despite the fly-aways and out of place strands. Whatever product he's using to gel his hair back like that must be very quality. He apologizes after a moment, eye fixed on the wall behind her. "Sorry if my outburst troubled you. It's just…"

"Well, I'm not going to just sit around and let this happen to you." Maya says, nodding in confidence at her statement. It's true. She has to do something; it hurts her as much as it hurts him. "Let me help."

"Okay."

She allows herself a small smile, satisfied at his answer.

"So, Sis told me a lot about you." Maya begins, starting off with a safe subject—talk about the client themselves. It's in Mia's quick and easy "How To Break 'Em" checklist, and she's burned her sister's steps into her brain.

"Really?" He replies, intrigued.

This is the part of the interrogation where Maya realizes she actually doesn't know as much as she thinks she does. Correcting herself, she hastily explains, "Okay, well, I know that you work for Grossberg Law Offices. That's pretty much the extent of my Phoenix Wright knowledge."

"There's nothing special about me." Phoenix leans back in his chair, picking lint from his hoodie pockets. He flicks them off to the side in disinterest. "I'm a senior in high school, and I'm interning for Mr. Grossberg. I hope to become a defense attorney someday."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, it was…" Phoenix pauses, but it's a hurdle he jumps over quickly because he finishes, vaguely, "an elementary school thing. Long story short, I want to be there for those who have no one else to turn to."

_Elementary school, huh?_ Maya's pretty sure she remembers Larry saying something about that to her, but for some reason, she can't recall the exact details. But, no matter how curious she is, she knows it isn't her job to pry. Step #3 in the Mia Fey handbook of dealing with clients—2nd edition.

"What about you?" He turns the tables onto her. "How are you dealing with things…?" Phoenix trails off, hesitant to pursue the rest of his question.

Maya answers out of courtesy. "Not too well, honestly. But… I'm managing."

"What about your parents?"

She's silent, picking at the wear and tear of her leather organizer until he finally gets the picture. "Sorry."

"No big."

Maya shakes her head dismissively, and they fall back into silence again.

"Anyway, I was hoping we could talk about the murder." Maya says, slowly, trying to bring Phoenix around to the idea. Her first client, Larry Butz, wasn't a big talker as much as he was a crier when she had first met him at the detention center, so this happens to be her first time striking a real conversation with a convict.

Phoenix takes in a long, shaky breath, but he seems to calm down as he considers her words. "Alright." He relents.

"If you don't want to—_alright?_" She cuts herself off, obviously thrown off by him agreeing so quickly. She clears her throat, trying not to sound too eager when she says, "Alright!"

She takes out her belongings from where she kept them under the chair, and lays them on the counter. "About that receipt I found last night…" Maya sifts through her organizer to find the department receipt, and she presses it against the glass. On the back, it reads the letters "_Nix_" in bright, red blood. "You think this might be referring to you, right?"

"Not just me, but the whole police department, too. I just don't get why Mia would write my name—a part of my name even."

"You're right." She agrees, frowning. Maya pulls the receipt back onto the counter, analyzing it carefully. "It's kind of cliché, in my opinion. Isn't that what usually happens in crime movies, and then it turns out that they were just following a fake lead the whole time?"

"Are you comparing a real life case to a_ movie_?" Phoenix asks incredulously.

"…Maybe?"

For a second, there, it looks like Phoenix is going to comment on that, but he changes his line of questioning to a sudden, but apprehensive, "Do you trust me?"

Maya's eyes widen, and she scrambles to answer, "I trust you." She says in a low voice, genuinely.

"Why?" He continues, egging her on, like he's the one who doesn't believe anything she is saying. "Don't you think I did it too?"

"There's always the theory—I mean, there has to be some merit in why they arrested you. But, just because that theory exists doesn't mean I don't trust you. I'm a trusting kind of gal." And then, realizing she's gotten too casual with him, Maya clears her throat and links her fingers together, lacing them under her chin and leaning forward. "Mr. Wright, it's fine."

Phoenix visibly relaxes at this, and Maya internally pumps her first in the air. Yes! I totally nailed that, she muses to herself, and the little Maya inside of her mind whips out a pair of pom-poms and begins the celebratory 'Maya Fey is Awesome' cheers. Not that she would ever admit that to anyone else.

Sensing a need to change the subject, Maya asks, trying to push her luck, "Could you tell me about the day of the murder?"

"Sure." Phoenix drums his fingers against the counter on his side of the glass partition, recalling yesterday's events. "That morning, I got a call from Chief. She wanted to know if I was free for dinner with the two of you."

"_Huh._ She didn't mention anything about a guest when she called me this morning! It was just about holding evidence for her, as usual."

"Evidence?"

"Mhm. 'The Thinker'—what your friend Mr. Butz gave her as a gift a month ago. Except that wasn't really the evidence as much as what was in it and—" Maya has a deer-in-the-headlights expression, slumping sheepishly back into her seat. "I've said too much."

"Well, if you want to hear our phone call, you could always listen to it in her own voice." Phoenix suggests, leaning forward.

"Her own voice…? Wait a sec, you record your phone calls, too?" She wonders aloud, impressed.

Phoenix nods. "My phone is set to record all of my calls. When I got it, I didn't know how to turn that setting off but… sometimes, it pulls its weight." He says, referring to the situation he's caught up in now.

"So, can we listen to it?"

Phoenix begins to pat down his jeans pockets before making a face. "Oh, right. I forgot. The detective—with the green trench coat? He confiscated all of my things."

"I have a feeling I know exactly who you're talking about." Maya grimaces, and slumps further into her seat. "I guess we won't be hearing it then."

"I'll write you a memo." Phoenix offers instead, looking at the guard standing by the doorway. The guard nods, reaches a hand into his pants pocket for a notepad and pen, and slips it over to Phoenix. He jots down a quick sentence and signs it off with a curly signature.

"Thanks." Maya hums to herself once the paper was passed onto the guard and he briefly leaves the room, making sure to lock the door, to give it to Maya from the other side. The guard moves back, unlocking the door with ease, and assumes his previous position.

Folding it over and tucking it into her organizer, Maya continues, "Now, if you don't mind… what else happened, other than that phone call?"

He gives a soft chuckle at Maya's apprehension, shutting his eyes close for a couple of seconds before reopening them. "I've been talking about this the last couple of hours. It couldn't hurt to say it one more time." He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, the day's events falling off the tip of his tongue with renewed ease, "Well, I got off work at around five. I went home and worked on a couple of school things, and when it was half past eight, I started for Chief's."

"So, you arrived at the office at…?"

"Just before nine." Phoenix nods. "When I got to the office, the lights were off… but the door was open from the reception room. I sort of let myself in, and that's when I started smelling the blood. I rushed over, but by that time Chief… was… you know…" His reply hangs in the air, unfinished.

"That's all I need to know for now. You have no idea how much all of this helps." She breathes out, amazed at the amount of information she was able to get from just a short briefing.

After a while, however, Phoenix speaks up, "Listen, Maya… I was wondering if you could maybe do me a favor."

"Sure!" Maya chirps, glad to fulfill her client's wishes. "What is it?"

"Would you mind going to this address and asking Mr. Grossberg to defend me?" Phoenix questions before getting ready to recite the address to her.

She deflates.

And here she was, offering her services as an attorney because he sounds like a nice guy, and her sister seemed really fond of him, when what he really wanted was for his mentor to do defend him, instead. The things kids will go to to spoil their elder's self confidence. Go figure.

"Of course I will," Maya accepts after a moment, pulling out the purple gel pen from storing jacket of her organizer. Despite the lack of professionalism, it was the only one she could find that morning before she rushed to the detention center, and she has a penchant for losing track of office supplies. As she twists off cap, scribbling down the street name, area code, and the like, she thinks things could've gone much worse.

.

.

.

(When Maya finally manages to finagle Detective Dick Gumshoe into returning Phoenix's cell phone to her, she finds a secluded area in the building—the girl's restroom on the fifth floor no one ever visits—and she searches for the recorded conversation in his media folders. She plays it back. Again. And again. She stuffs a fist into her mouth, knees curled up into her chest and she presses her back against the back of the toilet seat, and Maya allows the tears to fall down her face as she takes in her sister's words—her chuckles, her intensity.)

.

.

.

Mr. Grossberg doesn't take the case. He gives off some excuse that Maya doesn't really believe, and then gives her his condolences for Mia's death, saying that she was a fine defense lawyer and it was sad to see her go. (She just nodded politely, and then excused herself.)

So, when Maya arrives at the detention center later that day, _again_, with the necessary paperwork for Phoenix to fill out, he stares at the offer. And then he turns to the guard, still standing in position by the door, and asks if he could be able sign them. Maya lets the guard give him the paperwork, and she watches as Phoenix signs off his signature in the intended places.

"Has a trial date been set?" He asks while he flips a page, reading over the text.

"Yup, it's… tomorrow. Ten a.m." Maya looks down at her wristwatch, and almost cringes at the time. It's mid-afternoon, now, and she still had a whole day of investigating ahead of her. A part of her really regrets not sleeping last night, but she shakes the thought away; this is for Sis.

"Uh, do you know who's prosecuting?" Phoenix inquires, setting the pen down onto the counter.

Maya scrunches her nose together in thought, before slowly speaking, "Maybe Prosecutor Edgeworth? He's been assigned a lot of cases recently."

"Prosecutor… Edgeworth…?" He echoes, slightly stunned.

"Yeah, I could drop by the crime scene and ask around. One of the detectives is a real pushover if you ask the right questions, even though we defense attorneys aren't technically allowed there. He's nice, though." She pauses in her gossiping, before ducking her head low near the holes drilled into the glass provider, "But… do you know him? Mr. Edgeworth, I mean." Maya searches his face for any reactions, but it remains hard-stoned.

He scoffs bitterly. "If you're talking about the Demon Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth, who'd do anything in his power to protect his precious perfect trial record, then yes, I do." It's kind of like he's reading out a dictionary definition, all in a disgusted tone.

"So you've heard those rumors too?" Maya asks.

"Who hasn't?" Phoenix drolls, unimpressed. And then, shaking his head, he apologizes, "Sorry. It's just…"

"It's fine. You don't have to explain." Maya dismisses. "Corrupt dealings are always tough to deal with, especially in this kind of workplace."

"Yeah…" Phoenix agrees, though his words fade off, and he's avoiding her gaze again. His distant persona makes her hold back a sigh, and she bites her lip.

Detective Gumshoe had dropped the deets about the eyewitness when she had dropped by the office earlier, and Maya's assisted Mia enough times to start thinking he's doing it on purpose—but she figures it's because Detective Gumshoe thinks that Mia's very pretty and he's grown fond of her little sister.

"Well, I'm off to visit the eyewitness." She mentions, "I'll see you in court tomorrow, Mr. Wright. I'll get you out of here. You can count on me." Maya smiles, gathering her things together and pulling them into her bag. He nods again, and stands up from his seat, moving over to the guard to escort him back to his cell. Maya waves, and just before she ducks outside of the detention center, she swears she could see a hint of a smile on Phoenix's face.

She's been meaning to have a few words with the witness, ever since she had caught a glimpse of her pink-haired self across the street in the Gatewater Hotel the night before. Phoenix Wright is Maya Fey's responsibility now. She will definitely prove his innocence tomorrow. No matter what.

.

.

.

Maya holds onto her big guns for today's today-pictures and the evidence submitted into the court records when she had that impromptu visit over at the Gatewater Hotel. A wiretap in the witness' drawer. (Her kleptomaniac tendences caused her to check it out, briefly, when Ms. April May was off somewhere and the very nice-but weird-Bellboy was the only one to be seen.)

It's particularly surprising when Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth stops by the Defendant's Lobby before the trial begins.

"I'm here to offer my condolences." He says, briefly, in monotone, while sticking close to the door. Miles' expression switches to a cooler, darker one after his previous small act of kindness. Maya shivers. "But do not believe that because the deceased Ms. Fey is kin I will be going easy on you. My policy is that every defendant is to be declared 'guilty,' even under special circumstances like yours."

"Edgeworth…" Phoenix's words are said in the same cold tone Miles is using, the only difference being that he sounds half-pitiful; an emotion Maya isn't sure whether or not Miles is capable of. Maya's eyebrows knit together when he makes the passing comment, nonchalantly, but all too bitter, "You've changed."

For a second there, Maya swears she sees Miles stiffen visibly, but the small action passes as soon as she notices. "Wright." He acknowledges, knowing better than to be affected. "Don't expect any special treatment."

"Uh, thanks…?" Maya replies, still caught up, and slightly perturbed, on the fact that Miles Edgeworth, the Demon Prosecutor himself, came and seemed genuinely sorry for her loss, even if he was being a big jerk about it. The door to the hallway closes shut the second the words pop out of her mouth. "I think."

Then, she pounces on Phoenix, who is playing with the strings of his hoodie. "Okay, when you said you knew him, I didn't realize—you _knew him_, knew him! What was that all about?"

He clears his throat, obviously avoiding the change in subject. "The trial's about to start. Let's go in."

The corners of her lips tug downwards, but she relents. "Okay."

.

.

.

Okay. So, there isn't any evidence relating the wiretapping to the murder. That's no biggie. Maya Fey is trained especially in handling these types of situations—except, she's more the "surpriser" than the "surprisee."

And not to mention the fact that there was… a slightly stumble over the hurdle… when she had visited Redd White's office-named Bluecorp of all things!-and maybe sorta revealed the key piece of evidence and had it confiscated. In her defense, she's still green! Thing just kind of happened!

Still, she is perfectly capable of handling this. It's what being a defense attorney is all about.

Even with her own life on the line, here.

"Well, Ms. Fey?" The judge asks, rounding the court's attention over to the defendant's bench. Phoenix shoots her a worried look from his co-counsel spot, having been let out of detention thanks to her defense yesterday. The spotlight was on her, now, after Redd White, Maya's main suspect, had turned the tables on her and indicted her for the murder of her own sister.

The judge clears his throat, reaching for his gavel. He stares back and forth between the defense and the prosecution. Miles smirks, arms crossed, waiting for another tally to be added to his perfect record.

"If you can't prove that Mr. White had seen the glass stand the night of the murder, then I should be inclined to declare you—"

Maya's in for it now. She is completely in for it.

So, she does what any normal, sane twenty-four year old defense attorney would do in her time of need. Maya panics, and channels Mia's body from the spirit realm.

It's sloppy and almost fries her brain out with the amount of concentration she has to pull due to the lack of proper training, but her eyes end up rolling backwards and she feels her soul being sucked away. That's when she panics, again. She forgot the most important thing—

—"Let me guess. Maya didn't tell you we were spirit mediums."

"No," Phoenix squawks in disbelief, halfway lying on the bench in the lobby from having passed out earlier, and almost like he is about to again, "Not at all."

He reaches out for her, targeting her shoulder first, and he inhales sharply when he makes direct contact with flesh. Phoenix looks torn on whether or not he should feel relieved or terrified that his hand didn't pass straight through Maya-turned-Mia's body.

"Typical Maya." Mia tutts, flattening out Maya's pencil skirt with her fingers. She begins shuffling around the bench in an attempt to have a feel for being alive again.

"Wait, so this is true? I'm not just freaking out because your sister might be sentenced to jail for first-degree murder?"

"No," Mia answers before finding it appropriate to tack on, "I'm talking about whether this is fake or not. You _might_ be freaking out—that, I have no answers for."

Phoenix groans.

And so, Mia fills him in on The Story—well, what of it she could in the very small recess time frame that they've luckily gained from Phoenix's impromptu faint spell. Phoenix is hanging off the edge of his seat, (literally, because he's about two seconds from falling off the bench) trying to process all of this information.

"So Ms. Fey just… 'channeled' you? Out of the blue like that?" Phoenix asks again, making sure his words are slow and enunciated carefully, just in case Mia won't understand him if he talks regularly. He doesn't know how this whole 'spirit realm' thing works, so he is being extra careful.

Mia tilts her head thoughtfully. "I'm not sure. She never completed her training… so the fact that she was able to channel me at all is simply amazing." She winks, "But I guess that's what happens when you're a part of the main bloodline of the Fey clan. She'd make a wonderful Master one day."

Phoenix nods along, even though he has no idea what Mia is talking about.

"So, what's going on? Is this about my murder?" Mia asks, and it's so casual that Phoenix has to make sure what he's hearing is true.

"Y-Yeah…" He starts, "Ms. Fey proved that I didn't murder you during yesterday's trial, but now she's… she's pretty tied up at the moment. Today, _she's_ on trial."

"Redd White?" Mia sighs.

"Seems so."

Just when it seems like Mia is about to comment on the whole situation, she switches gears, and instead asks, "Say, Phoenix. Do you have a pen and paper?"

Phoenix blinks. He looks down at his satchel, wrapped loose around his shoulder, and he digs around for an extra pad and paper for Mia to use. "What for?"

"It's a precautionary thing; might come in handy sometime." She flicks her wrist to grab the objects Phoenix pulls out of his satchel. The smile on Mia's face is ominous, and Phoenix idly wonders when Mia became a fortune cookie. Using the bench as a desk, she begins to write.

Then, Mia speaks up again.

"Look, Phoenix. I can't stay for long, and as much as I wish I could take over for Maya and defend you—the both of you, that wouldn't be fair." She purses her lips, grabbing his hands and pushing the papers she's been scribbling on for the past couple of minutes into his open palms, mouthing, "For later." One of them is titled "Phoenix" and the other "Maya." Mia closes her hands for him, and leans in close to say, hush-hush secretive, "The key to winning the case is in the receipt. Tell her this for me, please."

Phoenix nods.

"Maya doesn't know as much as she believes she does." Mia admits, a serious look on her face. "I thought I was protecting her…"

"And you ended up being murdered." Phoenix counters, staring down at the two folded slips of paper in his hand.

"You've seen him, haven't you? Redd White is a dangerous man with connections. I know that Maya's here for the same reasons I am but—"

"—sisterly instincts?"

"Something like that."

"Alright, Chief."

"Call me Mia. I'm no 'Chief' now." She says, and her words are strong and calm, but Phoenix notices the wistfulness in her eyes when they escape her mouth. She's dead—but not by choice. This fight is for Mia.

"Mia," Phoenix nods.

Mia claps a hand on Phoenix's shoulder, and gives a reassuring squeeze.

And then she's gone, and Maya is back. She's in a slight spell, wobbling on her heels, and Phoenix has to wrap an arm around her shoulder and place a hand on her waist to keep her on her feet until he could get her on the bench.

"Did it work?" She mumbles, dazed.

"Yeah, it did. I don't believe it, either, but… it _did._" He shakes his head, still disbelieving, and then adds, "Mia says the key is in the receipt." Phoenix's fingers curl into a fist around the papers he holds in his hand, and slips them into his pocket for safe keeping.

"The… receipt?"

He shrugs.

After a moment of silence, Phoenix drags his shoes against the floor until they sweep under the bench, and back out again. He raises his eyebrows. "Still—_spirit mediums_?"

"In training! But, uh, surprise?" Maya grins sheepishly. "It's nothing strange, really!" Maya insists, giving him a playful punch on the shoulder.

He stares at her with a fixed look, eyebrow raised. "As long as you warn me next time. I fainted. _Twice_."

"Twice?! How does that even happen?"

"It's nothing strange, really." Phoenix repeats, eyes shining in a way Maya is sure she hasn't seen on him before, before pulling her back into the courtroom.

.

.

.

Redd White had to have come into the office just recently. It isn't possible that he just stopped by a couple of weeks ago! He knew too much—he had so much information… Nothing adds up. He murdered her sister! He took her life away! He was the one that practically shunned her mother from Kurain! But… what good was her word without evidence?

Receipt. Receipt. She traces the dried blood with the tip of her finger.

And then, she flips it around. That's when she notices it.

The contents of the receipt; it was one for a certain light glass stand… dated the day before the murder. Her eyes widen. Jackpot.

"_OBJECTION_!"

.

.

.

Maya has him cornered, now. Even Miles Edgeworth, whose smug look had dropped right off his face earlier, first clenched and teeth gritted, knows that. Yet, Redd White was playing his stupid games and feigning ignorance.

But she's already shown her last piece of evidence—you know, the one that just screamed "turnabout!" and doubled as a train ride, destination: jail, population: Redd White? What else is there left for Maya to prove now?

He's on the brink. Maya just has to push him off the edge.

She bites her lips, eyes scouring the court record.

Phoenix's memo, no… the Thinker... _that_ wouldn't work. Her badge? Did that even make an ounce of sense?

"Ms. Fey," Phoenix whispers, nudging her in the side.

"A little busy here, Mr. Wright…"

He pushes a piece of paper over to her. "Here."

"What's this?" Maya squints down at what Phoenix just handed to her. She absently wonders if this is how her sister felt when she tried passing silly notes to her during a trial. In her defense, they were boring immigration cases!

"Something Mia thinks might come in handy." Phoenix adds in explanation. "She gave it to me earlier when you, uh, channeled her. I figured now might be a good a time as any."

Her sister gave it to him…? She eyes the paper curiously, before unfolding the scrap and skimming the contents. Her breath catches.

It's a list of names, and although Maya doesn't recognize all of them, she's sure she's seen her sister research about this before every now and then when Mia doesn't know she's looking. Some of them were people in finance, famous celebrities... What could this mean, though?

"Maybe you should say them?" Phoenix suggests, peering over her shoulder.

"Yeah… I guess so." It didn't hurt to try. She steadies herself, and begins to read aloud the list of names, eyes trained towards the witness stand.

It doesn't take long before Redd White breaks-"S-s-stop! Desist! Halt!"-and Maya cannot contain her grin when the truth is revealed and the judge pounds his gavel, and announces, "Not guilty."

She did it.

Maya Fey just won her second trial.

.

.

.

_September 9, 9:02 PM_

_Fey & Co. Law Offices_

Maya's alone in the office. She hums a soft tune to herself, moving around the room at a languid pace, trying to take everything in. It's her first time stopping by since The Incident, and Maya is convincing herself it is a good idea, though everything in here is too Mia it kind of hurts.

Her blood is still by the window sill, dried now, and wafts of copper are still circulating around the room. Maya can't bring herself to open the window. Shards of glass from the lamp are littered around the carpet, and Maya makes plans to clean up the office as soon as possible.

"Nice… mosaic?"

Maya pokes her head out the office door at the—statement?—and softens when she sees Phoenix standing by the entrance to the reception room, motioning towards the framed photo above the couch. Maya's lips twitch into a smile. "It's very," He makes a vague gesture with his hands, "…mosaic-y."

"You've noticed it too?" Maya jokes, thankful for change of mood. It's lighthearted, and exactly what she needs right now.

"I can't believe I was planning to major in art when I got into college." Phoenix cringes, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets.

"So, what brings you here?"

"This note." He proffers a folded up piece of paper to her, to which she takes with slight hesitance.

It's her sister's handwriting. She instinctively holds onto the note tighter.

She notices the instructions to meet at the office at nine, amongst other personal things for Phoenix to remember now that Mia's gone. But what makes her hands shake and her breath catch is the final line, right above her signature. Maya whispers it aloud, and with her words, it feels finalized. "Take care of Maya for me."

"For your sake, I hope Mia knows that I'm the adult here." Maya protests weakly, trying to fight off tears—not wanting to crumble in front of someone she just met. She's strong because she has to be. "Once a little sister, always a little sister, I guess."

"And once an older sister, always an older sister." Phoenix affirms, seemingly closer to Maya without moving at all. She stands, stock-frozen in the middle of the room, and he softly says, "She's just trying to look after you."

"By sic-ing a teenager on me?" She asks, an amused twinkle appearing in her eyes. It's strange how she feels so at home talking to Phoenix, someone she had just got to know a couple of days ago. Maybe it's because they're both going through the same pain.

"I'm turning eighteen next year." Phoenix raises his eyebrows, before returning to the subject. "And no. By not telling you about Redd White."

The mood plummets again.

"I just don't understand why Sis would hide something so… important from me." Her breath is wavering, and Maya has to force the words out, her smile only plastered on with effort, "I thought we were in this together, the whole 'find mom' thing."

"She knew how dangerous he was." Phoenix says simply, recalling his and Mia's last conversation in the lobby.

"And look at what happened to her." Maya says surly. "It's just—_it's not fair_. If she'd told me… I could've helped her. Maybe Redd White would've already been arrested, maybe we'd know where mom is, maybe… maybe Sis would still be here. Maybe it could've been me! Even if it was… at least, then, it would've been fair."

She drops to the couch, her face buried into her hands.

"Maya…" Phoenix drops the formalities, resting a hand on her shoulder and squeezing gently.

Maya looks up from her hands, and smiles softly at Phoenix, though her shoulders are still hunched and she looks completely vulnerable. "It's fine. I'll… be fine. Honest."

The corners of his lips curl upwards, and he gives her shoulder another reassuring squeeze before letting his arm fall down to the sides. Phoenix leans back into the couch, and Maya stares appreciatively at him.

"So, Mia says you have to take care of me, huh?" Maya starts, an impish grin forming on her face.

Phoenix takes no notice. "It's kind of an empty promise."

"You can't speak ill of the dead!" She puffs out her cheeks in retaliation.

"And besides, I think she's talking about the office. Mia probably thinks you need help to fulfill the legacy of Fey & Co. Law Office. She was already planning on taking me in once I got my badge…"

Maya snaps. "Ah! I see what you're getting at. So, in essence, she wants you to be my lackey."

"More like assistant." Phoenix snorts.

"Assistant? That's even better! We can make it casual, then. Yo, Nick!"

"'Nick'?" Phoenix questions.

Maya grins sheepishly. "Too much? Mr. Bu—Larry calls you that, though, right? I think it's an interesting nickname for Phoenix." She reasons. And _fun_—it just rolls off her tongue, nice and smooth, and it fits him well. Maya keeps this to herself.

"Phoenix is an interesting name by itself." Phoenix points out, and Maya is inclined to agree—you don't meet a 'Phoenix' on the street everyday. "But, sure."

"_Well_," Maya sing-songs, "it's only fair if you get to call me Maya, now, too. You've said it just a couple of minutes ago, right?"

"Darn. I was kind of getting used to calling you Ms. Fey." Phoenix tries too hard to seem impassive, but the smile seeping through his expression tells Maya the exact opposite.

"We're kind of like… a defensive powerhouse pair, together, now." Maya decides she likes the sound of that.

His phone beeps, a name flashing across the small screen on the top of his flip phone. He frowns slightly at it, before flipping it open and reading the message's content. After a while, Phoenix shoves his phone back into his pocket, and sighs.

"Well, I have tomorrow's agenda all settled for me. Mr. Grossberg wants me to deliver some paperwork to the courthouse for him tomorrow morning." He recites.

"You're still interning at Grossberg's?"

"Yeah, I mean, it's only a one-year internship, and it took me a while to qualify for it, so I figured I might as well finish what I started. I'll still take that offer on being your assistant, though." And then, backtracking, Phoenix says, "I'm sorry. I know what he did to your mom-and to Mia, and it probably-"

"Nah," She shakes her head. "Don't worry about it, Nick."

Maya swings her legs back and forth, exhaling deeply, before perking up and turning towards Phoenix.

"First order of business as my brand new legal assistant: we should go out to burgers. Your treat." Maya says, before quickly adding on, a hand pressed to her heart and eyes fluttering close as she nods, in mock-sadness, "It's what Mia would've wanted."

"I bet." Phoenix snorts without missing a beat.

"There's a great burger joint just down the street. And everything goes down better with a burger and a shake, Nick." Maya chides him, patting him on the head as she moves over to the coat rack in the reception room. She passes by her fur stole and her long overcoat for a light, purple jacket—a much more practical choice for the humid, yet breezy September weather.

"A shake, too?" Phoenix asks, opening the door for her. "'Mia,'" He air quotes, "didn't mention anything about milkshakes."

"Well," She drawls out the word as long as she can, positively beaming for the first time since the incident, cupping a hand to her ear and pretending she could hear her sister from up there, "_now_ she does. Come on, Nick. Time's a wasting. Race ya to the lobby!"

"_Maya_, w-wait!"

"What?"

"…You're on."

"I knew you'd come along, eventually."

* * *

**Note**: As you can see from this chapter, this isn't the kind of fic someone can read without having played the game before, because I skip over a lot of details—sorry! But, anyway, this is SO fun to write. And I apologize, this was meant to go up around early August, but I lost track of time and have only finished it right now. While I have no guarantees about short update times, I am positive I will NOT drop this fic. Please tell me if I'm characterizing Phoenix and Maya correctly or not, because I'm worried about that as well. To those wondering about The Window to Our Souls, don't worry! The next chapter is already outlined, and I plan on releasing that soon. Make sure to review, and thank you for reading!


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